Disclaimer- I own nothing, sadly.
Authors note: This basically starts after Lissa's coronation as queen.
I stood at the balcony, it was light outside and yet cold in my thin silk nightdress. I reached into the antique vase I had in my room and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking one cigarette and lighting it I walked out into the moonlight.
I just stood there for a moment, wondering how I had gotten myself in this position.
"Lissa would kill you if she saw those." I heard the voice of Adrian Ivashkov to my left. He stood there in the balcony next to mine, with a half full glass used for whiskey and still wearing his clothes from the coronation.
I turned away from him.
"I couldn't care less what she thinks." I replied meaning every word.
"She's a good person you know. She just doesn't know how to talk to you." I could have laughed, why would I want anything to do with her?
"Whatever, It's not as though I'm sticking around. I don't need her to talk to me." I took a long drag of the cigarette in my hand.
"You can't leave, Lissa needs you." He was defensive of her.
"Vasilisa doesn't need me, she needs my co-operation until her place as queen is secure."
"Thats not true, your her sister. She needs you."
I put the cigarette out before speaking.
"I have a sister, and its not Vasilisa." I said coolly. Inside I wanted to cry. Cry for her, for Lana. My darling little sister, who I could not protect.
"Another sister? Does Lissa know?" He asked skeptically.
"Believe it or not Ivashkov, some things aren't about her." It sounded bitter even to me.
"If Lissa has another sister, she deserves to know." He was beyond insistent.
"Then by all means tell her. It's not as if it matters anymore."
"Of course it matters, if theres another Dragomir out there her place as queen is already secure."
I smiled but it wasn't a real smile, it was hollow and fake.
"Why would anyone care to know that another Dragomir lies under the ground, dead?"
Adrian didn't say anything but I felt his eyes on me. I stood there for a moment before wiping the one lone tear that had fallen from my eyes away and walking into my room.
I pulled my locket out from under my night gown and opened it to look at the flawless face it concealed. Her chocolate brown hair fell in ringlets, shiny and perfect. Her huge jade eyes, a trait she had inherited from our father. A small, button nose that I shared with her and a big, happy smile.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you." I whispered before closing the locket and climbing into the bed where I began to cry myself to sleep as I had done every night for the past year. I carried her ghost with me everywhere, never letting myself be happy. This was my punishment for not keeping her safe.
Thinking about this reminded me of a story my mother once told me back when she was alive and everything was simple and easy.
Two traveling monks reached a river where they met a young woman. Wary of the current, she asked if they could carry her across. One of the monks hesitated, but the other quickly picked her up onto his shoulders, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other bank. She thanked him and departed.
As the monks continued on their way, the one was brooding and preoccupied. Unable to hold his silence, he spoke out. "Brother, our spiritual training teaches us to avoid any contact with women, but you picked that one up on your shoulders and carried her!"
"Brother," the second monk replied, "I set her down on the other side, while you are still carrying her."
But this was different, I hadn't carried a woman across a river, I had been the reason my six year old sister had died. I couldn't let go of Lana, not when the man who killed was still out there and not whilst I was still alive and she was not.
It was with these thoughts that I fell into a slumber.
I awoke just in time to see the sun set from my bed. I had a migraine but that was nothing new, still the pain was horrible and I yearnede for some coffee to make the day bearable.
Reluctantly I stood and walked to the large armoire in my room to pick out a simple black dress and a matching cardigan and ballet flats. I took the clothes into the bathroom with me before I put them down and slipped into the shower and let my mind drift back to Lana.
My baby sister who I had all but raised as a child, I had taught her to walk and talk and crawl. I had showed her how to use a knife and fork, I had been the one who sang her to sleep when she was young. I may not have given birth to her, but I was the only mother she had ever known and I had failed her.
As I finished showering I let myself think about my own mother. She had been wonderful with me, the best mother there was but then when Lana was born she had gone into a state of depression following the death of her sister. She was an echo of the woman she had been and Lana had suffered because of it.
I stepped out of the shower, forcing a smile on my face and no longer thinking about my mother because Amanda Tasarov was as good as dead now.
I then dressed and pulled my long curly blond hair into a bun letting a few strands frame my face. I looked into the mirror, Vasilisa Dragomir and I share no resembelance. We both have blonde hair sure, but hers is straight and platinum and mine is slightly paler than golden blonde and curly. We both have light eyes, but hers are almond shaped and jade while mine are silver doe eyes. Her face is an elagant oval shape and mine is heart shaped.
I sighed, before framing my eyes with a thin, barely noticable line of black eyeliner and putting lip balm on before picking up my purse and walking out the door.
People stared as I walked past them towards a small cafe I had breakfast at every morning. Some stares were disbelieving as though my existance was a shock to them, some stares came with awe as if being the Queens sister made me some sort of celebrity and other stares, well they were just rude, full of distaste as though I was some parasite who didn't deserve the title of princess.
I tried my hardest to ignore them but it was getting increasingly difficult to do so. I took a sharp turn away from their intimidating stares to the cafe I occupied every morning. It was quiet as usual and the only people in there had become accustomed to my presence so they ignored as they would any other person and for that I was grateful.
I walked to the counter and asked for a large black coffee. I placed my money on the counter and told the woman to keep the change before sitting down in a secluded booth.
I wasn't alone for long though because then Abe Mazur came in, flanked by two moroi. So much for subtlety. He walked to the counter to order before handing the woman a note and walking over to where I sat, his bodyguards sitting a few tables away from us.
"Miss Dragomir." He smiled charmingly but I glared at him.
"Its Tasarov." He kept smiling though, unphased.
"Well then Miss Tasarov, why is it you require my services?" I didn't reply, because the waittress was here and she held our drinks. I waited until she had left before I spoke.
"I need to find someone, a criminal." He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not a guardian Miss Tasarov, I don't enforce law."
"I'm not asking you to. I want you to find him and then let me have him." He frowned for a moment.
"Who is this criminal, your so desperate to find?"
"Aaron Loban, he's a murderer who the guardians have not yet caught." I took a file from my purse and handed it to him before speaking again.
"This is all I know about him." He looked down for a moment.
"And why are you so interested in finding him?" I smiled bitterly.
"Isn't it obvious? I want him dead and I want to be the one who does it."
He was silent for a moment, thinking.
"Why is that?"
"Because he killed my sister."
He stared at me before clearing his throat and picking up his drink.
"I'll find him for you."
"Thank you Mr Mazur." We shook hands and he left, I let myself breathe normally then and for one quick moment I even allowed a small smile grace my face.
That didn't last long however, because then Adrian Ivashkov sauntered in and took a seat in front of me.